


red

by orphan_account



Series: the daily life of taeyong and yuta [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Domestic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 05:58:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13288443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Lee Taeyong, get your skinny ass over here and see what you did to my shirts!” Taeyong’s grip on the plates almost slips and he lost another five years of life.





	red

Married life for Taeyong is so far so good. While he would not say that it’s perfect, it’s really close to being so. They rarely get into fights and when they do one of them (Taeyong) would feel bad and apologize first while the other (Yuta) would try to make things up by doing things other than apologizing. The best part Taeyong likes about this co-living arrangement is that the both of them respect each other’s private space. There are no secrets between them (except when Taeyong found out _recently_ that Yuta used to have casual sex with Doyoung back in high school when they were not dating), but Yuta knows Taeyong needs to be left alone sometimes to have some me-time and Taeyong understands that Yuta locks himself in his studio sometimes when he has a deadline.

 

 

“Lee Taeyong, get your skinny ass over here and see what you did to my shirts!” Taeyong’s grip on the plates almost slips and he lost another five years of life. He loves his plates, Yuta says that he has a kink for them but Taeyong begs to differ.

 

 

“Can’t it wait?”

 

 

“I said. Get your skinny ass over here before I throw all of your plates across the room under your watch.”

 

 

Taeyong never moves so fast.

 

 

He unsurprisingly trips and the pointy edge of the dining table bumps into his thigh (he doesn’t bump into things because he’s Lee Taeyong) and cringes all the way until he arrives in the laundry room.

 

 

There, standing in front of the washing machine, is Yuta, looking painfully like he just woke up. His husband looks at him with such distaste and disgust that Taeyong actually feels quite sad right now.

 

 

“What’s wrong?” He asks and approaches Yuta, before stopping himself when the latter hisses like a cat and puts a finger between them.

 

 

“Look!” He finally shows what he’s holding: at least five shirts and a pair of skinny pants, all light pink-coloured.

 

 

“Oh wow. I didn’t know you have so much pink stuff in your wardrobe, babe!” Taeyong exclaims.

 

 

Apparently that’s the wrong thing to say because Yuta looks even more murderous than before as he throws his clothes to the floor and marches over to Taeyong with a killing intent.

 

 

“First of all, this is not pink, it’s # _fa8072_ aka salmon. Second, fuck you asshole these were my white laundry which, as you can see, is not so white anymore! All because of that red lace shirt that you bought for _no_ apparent reason!”

 

 

“Red lace-“ Taeyong backtracks, “You mean that shirt I bought online?”

 

 

“I fail to see how the purpose of that hideous-“ “Hey don’t insult my taste!” “-shirt holds an importance right now,” Yuta grumbles, messing up his bed hair even more out of frustration. “Why would you wash it on the first place?!”

 

 

“Because I don’t want to wear what Johnny had touched before, duh,” Taeyong says, now a little bit annoyed that Yuta insulted his shirt. He spent almost three hours trying to find the perfect lace shirt and this is what he gets.

 

 

“If you still want to call yourself my husband, you better not wear that shirt outside where people can see. You bring shame to my name,” he threatens. Fair enough. But a direct insult coming from a fashion designer hurts him a little. “And you better get ready and buy me some new materials, I made those shirts myself,” Yuta sighs, suddenly feeling tired and slumps his body on the wall, rubbing his forehead. It’s still so early.

 

 

“I’m sorry, Yuta,” Taeyong says, carefully approaching him, “that was my fault and you have the right to be angry at me. You don’t have to make them again; you know I can always buy new ones for you,”  he strokes Yuta’s cheeks when he senses no animosity coming from the latter and almost sighs in relief when Yuta leans into the touch.

 

 

“Can’t. I need to submit my final project soon so I need to practice as much as possible,” Yuta closes his eyes. Four months to go and he’s finally graduating, he feels both excited and worried. “Sorry for yelling at you like that, I was just a little bit angry.”

 

 

“A little bit, huh? I was pretty sure that you would love to clonk me in the head using that metal hanger over there a few minutes ago,” Taeyong jokes, receiving a punch on the shoulder from Yuta. “I know you’re going to do just fine,” he reassures, “I want to say to not to worry too much but you will overthink stuff anyway, so. Let’s just eat breakfast?”

 

 

Yuta stretches his body, “Sure. Egg benedict with smoked salmon right? Tea with-“

 

  
“-one sugar and a splash of milk. Are you underestimating my knowledge of your preferences?”

 

 

“You gave me coffee instead of tea once and you lost my trust ever since,”  Yuta rolls his eyes, moving around Taeyong to get to their dining room.

 

 

He stops at the door. Without looking to his back he mumbles, “Thanks, by the way. For having faith in me.”

 

 

Taeyong smiles, “Always.”

 

 

“And tonight if you’re still up for it I could show you how to wear _proper_ lace.”

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> hullo folks your resident trash author is back! for a while at least :")


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